The Junior Witch and the Journalist
by Wai-Jing Waraugh
Summary: Crossover: Kiki's Delivery Service X The Adventures of Tintin. Kiki visits Tombo, to find that his older brother - a famous journalist based in Brussels - has come home for a visit. Tintin and Kiki hit it off, though she worries that his infectious sense of adventure might take Tombo away from her. Friendship, adventure, imagined cross-media family relations.
1. Chapter 1

_Author's note: another new story. I just can't seem to be stopped! I shouldn't complain about having inspiration; I just wish that the time I need to act on each idea automatically came with it!_

 _This came about from looking at reference material for a graphic design job, and noticing that Tombo of_ Kiki's Delivery Service _and_ _Tintin of... well,_ The Adventures of Tintin _, have almost identical hairstyles. It suddenly struck me, and it was so weird - had Miyazaki-san watched the Tintin cartoons? Was it just coincidence? What would happen if the two characters knew each other? It occurred to me, firstly, that the towns in each were similar enough to be in the same world, even the same continent, almost the same country (though apparently Koriko is modeled on Sweden, among various other locals; parts of it certainly wouldn't look out of place in Brussels). And secondly, why not make Tintin and Tombo brothers? The plot evolved from there!_

 _To be clear, I am NOT shipping Kiki with Tintin. If she is intended to end up with anyone, I would say it is Tombo; but this story focuses more on friendship and youthful high-jinks than anything even remotely romantic._

 _Takes place post-film, post-Black Island (my favourite comic in the series!)_

 _No disrespect is meant to either Herge and Moulinsart, or Miyazaki and Ghibli - I like to think that their characters would all get along well together!_

 _Please enjoy this slightly unusual crossover! ~ W.J._

* * *

 **The Junior Witch and the Journalist**

 **Chapter One**

Kiki soared along High Street. She was enjoying the warmth of the fresh summer air; the limitless blue shade of the clear sky above; the pleasant heat radiating from the sunlit buildings on either side. Jiji appeared to be enjoying it all, too. He was curled up on her lap, his claws gently hooked in her dress to keep himself from slipping, half-dozing as they hovered some twenty feet above the ground.

Kiki grinned as she felt him snuggle against the folds of her skirt, sleeping soundly. _I must be a steadier flier than I was before,_ she thought to herself.

She made sure to keep to her half of the road, staying well inside her lane, though she easily overtook several cars that trundled along below her. It wasn't really necessary; she was the only traffic to be found at this height. However, it was a good habit to get into, for those occasions when she flew at street-level.

She passed over a busy intersection. When the policeman on duty looked up and noticed her, he pretended to motion her onward. She laughed, waving down to him, and at the stopped motorists who had also seen her, many of them watching her fly on with wistful expressions.

She turned off High Street, onto Holburn Lane. A second-storey window box was filled to overflowing with some kind of white-petalled bloom; it wafted sweet-smelling perfume over her as she passed level with it. She breathed deeply, savouring the way the scent mingled with the slight tang of the distant ocean, carried down the street to her on an errant snatch of sea breeze.

The more time she spent in this place, the more things she found to love about it.

There was a rickety-sounding _creeeak_ somewhere, above and to her right. A window slid open, and a voice called: "Kiki!"

She had shot past it by the time she recognized who it was; she banked hastily, turning back towards it. Jiji woke, roused by the sudden change of pace and direction. He hopped onto the broom-handle in front of her in order to get a better view of where they were headed, his tail twitching as he recognized someone they both knew.

"Hello, Nico," Kiki said, coming over to float alongside her friend's windowsill.

"Hey. I thought I caught a glimpse of you zooming past. Hello there, Jiji."

Nico - as she insisted on being called, _never_ Nicolette - extended a hand. Kiki edged close enough for her to pat Jiji, who had climbed up onto her shoulder and was offering his head for her caress, purring contentedly.

"Are you just finishing for the day?" Nico asked, eying the sling that hung from the broom. It lay slack, empty of its usual parcels.

"Yes," Kiki said, then hurriedly corrected herself. "Almost. I've got one more thing to deliver; I just have to head back to the bakery and pick it up first."

"I'll let you keep at it, then," Nico said; then she added, almost as an afterthought: "Are you going to Tombo's tonight?"

"Y-yes," Kiki replied, feeling a little flustered. She often stopped at Tombo's place last on her route, but she didn't know that Nico knew about that.

Nico grinned. "I'll be there, too. Any excuse for a party is a good one! I was just trying to decide what to wear."

She gestured at the room behind her; the bed was covered with flouncy dresses that were in various crumpled states, littering the coverlet like scattered flowers that were just starting to wilt. "Perhaps I'll wear my best black one," she said, pointing at a swathe of dark chiffon that was draped over the back of a chair, dangling one filmy organza sleeve. "Then we could match!"

Kiki laughed, bid her friend farewell, then urged her broom forward again. To her dismay, her heart had started to beat faster, and her stomach was a pit of nerves. Jiji swivelled his head around to look at her from his perch in front of her, fixing her with an eloquent stare. It was an almost interrogative look; he seemed to be frowning up at her. She frowned right back at him.

"Don't give me that look," she told him, her voice short. "You can't blame me for still worrying about parties - we don't exactly have the best experience with them! Besides, no one ever expects _you_ to turn up in anything other than your usual black outfit; and if you accidentally do something wrong, claw the furniture or shed hair on the tablecloth, nobody makes a fuss about it. You have no idea how hard it is for the rest of us!"

Jiji eyed her sceptically, then blinked several times, in a rather dismissive way. Kiki sighed and ruffled his ears, as much to reassure herself as him.

She'd had no idea that Tombo was throwing a party. If she had, she would have avoided his place tonight. It was true that since arriving in town, she had made a few new friends among the Aviation Club and Tombo's other acquaintances - Nico included. But the thought of facing so many unknown people at once made her pulse flutter and her mouth go dry.

She guided her broom along the thoroughfare. Now she was close enough to the ocean to see it, stretched out before her like a second sky, the city nestled along its edge. The scent of salt-air was far stronger now; though it was very nearly over-powered by the enticing smell of freshly-baked bread.

Before she reached the 'Gutiokipanja' sign, she banked hard to the left, turned down a side alley, rose steeply in order to clear two neighbouring rooftops, and went into a direct descent, her feet touching down at the centre of the bakery's backyard. She dismounted her broom, hoisting it over her shoulder. Jiji leapt down onto the lawn beside her. She noticed that his gaze went straight to the window of the neighbouring house.

"Do you need to drop in and see Lily?" Kiki asked him.

He took a step away from her, then stopped and looked back, meowing softly. Though she couldn't understand him in words anymore, Kiki knew him well enough to guess what he was saying.

"I'll wait until you get back, if you're willing to come on with me. Don't rush. I want to stop and talk to Osono, anyway."

He looked up at her for a moment longer, then blinked at her in silent agreement. Without further hesitation, he dashed across the yard, leapt from the wrought-iron table to the top of the wall, then trotted along it until he reached the window that Maki always kept ajar for him. He slipped inside, disappearing from her view. Though she knew he would be back soon, Kiki suddenly felt a little lonely without him. If she was going to a room filled with strange people, it would comfort her to know that she at least had someone that she knew - besides Tombo and Nico - who would stay by her side the whole time. She knew he would keep his promise and come with her; for now, knowing this was comfort enough.

Turning towards the bakery, she looked up at the sign hanging outside her window - the one Tombo had put up for her.

She smiled as she looked at it. He had worked so hard to make it for her. He really was a very nice person; she just wished that his friends didn't make her so nervous. She liked him, and though she knew he liked her too - much as she had tried to discourage him - she always worried that his friends wouldn't be so understanding. She knew that they were all really nice people - they must be, if they were friends with him - but it was still daunting, having to speak to people she didn't know well, and who hadn't gotten to know her yet. She was so worried she would say or do the wrong thing, give the wrong impression; after all, that was just what had nearly spoiled her friendship with Tombo, before it had even begun.

As she crossed the courtyard, she glanced at the stairway that led up to her room. She wondered if she should go up and brush her hair, tidy herself a bit, ready for the party. She had no other dress to change into, no accessories other than her hair-ribbon, not even any make-up to put on; so that was the very least she could do. But as she thought about it, she realized that there was little point. If she arrived by broom, the breeze would just mess up her hair and ruffle her clothes again anyway.

She carefully opened the side door to the bakery, closing it soundlessly behind her. She tip-toed down the side passage, then stuck her head into the back room. Osono was sitting on the sofa, knitting something small and fluffy, made of sky-blue yarn.

"Hello," she said, in a low murmur. "I thought I heard you come in."

"Hi, Osono," Kiki replied, also talking in a whisper. "I tried to be quiet, so I wouldn't wake her."

As she spoke, she smiled at the cradle-like basket that sat on the sofa cushion beside Osono. Not a peep issued from it, save for the occasional soft, drowsy intake of breath, made by the infant sleeping inside. She knew that the shop was usually quiet at this time of day - after the mid-morning rush, before the home-going crowd - making now the ideal time for the baby to sleep. She would have come through the front of the shop, as she usually did; but the bell above the door might have woken her.

Osono chuckled. There were slight shadows under her eyes, as there would be on any new parent, without exception; but she smiled a warm, tender smile at the bundle sleeping beside her. "She's been napping soundly for more than an hour now." She set aside her knitting and came over to Kiki, allowing herself to speak a bit more loudly. "How did your deliveries go? You seem a bit earlier today."

"It went well," said Kiki, with a broad grin. "I've found a couple of new shortcuts, so I've sped up a bit. I need to, with all the customers I have these days."

Over the past few weeks, her business had grown; once word had gotten out, she had stopped having to wait too long between deliveries. Now, her daily rounds took her all over the city, and she was constantly taking on new clients. It kept her busy, but she enjoyed it.

"I've just got the last one left," she told Osono.

"Ah, yes." Osono gave a small, understanding nod. "I already set Tombo's things aside. You might need the sling for it; it's a particularly large order today."

"Oh. W-well, that might be because of the party," Kiki said, in a small voice.

Osono learned toward her, her grin spreading on either side. "A party?" she said. "That explains it! No wonder he wants so much food . You didn't tell me there was a party on tonight!" She was evidently surprised; she would have expected to have heard all about it as soon as it was announced.

"I only just found out," Kiki informed her, twisting her hands together anxiously. "If he ordered it from here, he must know that I'm coming to deliver it. I don't know why he didn't-"

"He probably thought you wouldn't turn up if he told you beforehand," Osono finished for her. She smiled kindly as she watched Kiki fall silent and look down at her shoes. She knew how bashful Kiki could be; she had hit close to the truth.

She chuckled again, patting the girl's arm companionably. Even before she had become a mother, she had felt a protective, maternal bond with this little witch, who was so eager and tried so hard, yet was so prone to be uncertain of herself. She well remembered how it felt to be that age; sometimes, she wondered if her husband had ever progressed past it, he was still so shy.

"I'm sure you'll have a great time," she told Kiki, her tone soft and reassuring. "Now, you'd better get a move on. If the party is starting soon, they'll be wanting to have that food ready for their guests." She gave Kiki a wink. "Throw in an extra bag of shortbread cookies, as a treat from Fukuo and me."

Kiki beamed back at her. They both knew that shortbread was Tombo's favourite. She gave an affirmative nod, then darted out into the hallway again, heading for the front of the shop.

Tombo's order, packed in a large brown-paper bag, sat on a shelf that was set among the racks of bread that lined the back of the shop. Fukuo was perched on the stool behind the counter, his head resting in his hand. He stifled a yawn as Kiki came in. She quickly smothered a laugh. She herself often felt bored when she was stuck looking after the shop; but Fukuo seemed grateful for the peace and quiet. He looked as though he could use a little rest.

Seeing her come in, he nodded to her in greeting. She nodded back. He was a man of few words, and Kiki didn't talk to him that much herself - he was such a big, gruff man, she still felt a bit self-conscious when speaking to him on her own - but he was friendly and kind, in his own way. Kiki liked him a lot - as much as she liked Osono.

"I'm going to Tombo's place tonight," she told him. "Unless you need me to watch the shop for you-?"

He shook his head vigorously in reply, then grunted, waving a hand towards the door, as if her were urging her through it. Talking to him was very similar to communicating with Jiji; she quickly deciphered the message behind his charades.

"If you're sure," she said, inclining her head in thanks.

He gave a decisive nod, then smiled broadly at her, making a thumbs-up sign. Giving him a smile of her own, she returned the gesture, then took the large bag of pastries - plus an extra packet of shortbread cookies - back through into the house.

She was just a little bit disappointed. If she'd had to watch the store, she needn't have had to worry about the party.

As she came through into the back room again, she found Jiji already there, half-leaning upon the knitting in Osono's lap, letting her scratch him behind the ears. He jumped down and twined himself around Kiki's ankles as she arrived, signalling that he was ready to go with her. She reached down and stroked him; she was grateful for his company.

"I'll be going now," she told Osono, trying to sound casual, though she was growing more and more nervous as the event grew ever closer. "I'm not sure when I'll be back..."

"I'll make a bit of extra supper for you," Osono told her. "I'll leave it in your room, by the stove, so just heat it up when you get back. Enjoy yourself," she added, since the girl's worries were plainly visible in her face, "and give our regards to Tombo and his family. Be sure to thank him for the mobile. Our little girl loves it." As she spoke, she lovingly smoothed the tiny, dark head of hair that poked just above the rim of the basket.

Kiki smiled at the thought. She also liked the mobile that Tombo had made for the baby. Hanging from a wooden ring - "one of Mother's old embroidery hoops," he had explained to Kiki when he had first shown it to her - were a flock of folded paper cranes, wheeling in an arc above the cradle. A cut-out paper figure of a witch, a tiny cat clinging to her broom, dangled in their midst.

"I'll tell him," she assured Osono. "Good-bye - and bye to you too, baby," she added, bobbing a quick curtsy to the lightly-snoring basket. She got no reply, though the gesture made Osono giggle.

Out in the yard, she stepped astride her broom - Jiji settling upon the handle in front of her - and took off, trailing the bag of baked goods beneath her. She sailed out over the edge of the bluff that the yard backed onto, rounded the side of the bakery, and continued over the sea of rooftops that glittered in the sun below her.

This side of town was closer to the ocean. She could hear the cries of gulls, see the late afternoon sun slanting between ships' masts, taste the salty tingle on the wind every time she drew breath.

Despite her anxiousness about the party, it was good to be on the familiar route to Tombo's place. He was always happy to see her, eager to offer her tea and tell her all about the latest flying contraption he had designed. If she could still do those things with him, besides there being a party today, perhaps it wouldn't be so bad after all.

Preoccupied with these thoughts, she didn't properly take in her surroundings. She approached the small balcony that jutted out of the walkway in front of Tombo's place, as she always did. She didn't notice the nearby treetops tossed by a sudden strong gust; if she had, she would have read the oncoming wind and altered her course around it.

Jiji, who was paying slightly more attention than she was, yowled a warning - a moment too late.

A sudden blast caught them, lifting them up and dragging them sideways. Kiki clung desperately to her broom, glad that it was an up-draft; otherwise it might have slammed her against the hard stone wall. Luckily, they had cleared it, and were instead thrown above Tombo's house, swiftly gathering height. She clenched the broom handle, wrestling back control, flattening herself down as much as she could to reduce wind-drag as she struggled against the current. The force of it abated for a moment, then surged again, catching her off-guard. She found herself swept sideways yet again; this time, the large tree in Tombo's yard loomed in her path.

She ducked and dipped the handle, barely missing a large branch. Another just barely clipped her shoulder, and she grasped it, using it to steady herself. She lowered the broom hurriedly, getting below the garden wall; it acted as a windbreak, shielding her from the worst gusts and allowing her to guide the broom to the ground. She landed a little shakily, hastily checking the sling and finding, to her relief, that the bag of pastries were still there - a few croissants now looked slightly crumpled, and a corner had broken off one of the shortbreads, but it was otherwise all still intact.

It was only then that she realized Jiji was no longer with her.

"Jiji!" she called, craning her head around for any sign of him. She hoped he had made it over the wall with her, and hadn't fallen off before she cleared the cliff's edge...

An answering meow came from just above her head. She looked up, just as Jiji ran nimbly along a branch, his whiskers nearly brushing her hair-bow. He clambered from this branch to a lower one, then leapt daintily to the ground, shaking out his fur and raising his tail high.

He looked more than a little smug. She could just imagine him saying: "There, at least one of us arrived with some kind of decorum!"

At that moment, they were met with an unexpected greeting: a strident bark, coming from somewhere close to the house.

At the sound, Jiji froze; his fur bristled from ears to tail, and his eyes widened fearfully. Before he could react further, a small white shape hurtled across the yard, yapping furiously as it launched itself at him.

Jiji shot off, trailing his assailant. Kiki realized, with a hurried glance, that it was a little white terrier. It was snapping eagerly at the cat's heels, obviously enjoying the chase. Jiji was not; he scrambled for the wall and, finding no way up it, sprinted back the way he had come, the dog dashing close behind him. The cat's dismayed yowling and the dog's eager barks were enough racket to reach the entire neighbourhood.

The back door banged open. "Jiji...?" Tombo asked, looking around in surprise. There was a smear of grease on his spectacles' right lens, and a spanner poked out of his back pocket. He had obviously just come from the garage.

He instantly grasped what was going on. "The dog-!" he shouted, running towards it; Jiji changed direction, and both animals veered away from him.

"Can you call it off?" Kiki asked him, shouting to be heard over the din. She had been trying to get Jiji's attention, motioning him towards safety, to no avail; he was so desperate to get away, he wasn't looking at her.

"I'll try," Tombo called back, looking more than a little doubtful. "Here, boy, here! Heel, boy!" he tried, snapping his fingers and making coaxing noises. The dog ignored him, intent upon its prize.

As they neared the house, a hand shot out, seizing Jiji firmly by the scruff of his neck. He ran in mid-air for a moment, then went still, paws splayed, as he was hoisted out of harm's way.

The dog skidded to an abrupt halt in front of the boy who had just appeared. He was older and taller than Tombo, without glasses, but with the same ginger-coloured hair; it was swept up in an almost identical peaked quiff above his forehead. He raised an eyebrow at the terrier; it whimpered, tail dropping and ears drooping sheepishly.

"Bad dog, Snowy!" he scolded it. "You nearly frightened this poor fellow to death!" He raised Jiji to his own head-height, looking the traumatized cat in the eye. Jiji stared blankly back at his rescuer, clearly not yet sure whether he might share his pet's hostility towards cats.

"Just as well he wouldn't know what to do with you if he caught you," the boy told him, with a chagrined expression upon his face. "Your owner wouldn't have forgiven me if you'd been eaten up for supper. He's a greedy little dog, but he's not really that mean."

The boy crossed the yard, handing the cat over to a very relieved Kiki. "Sorry for the scare," he said, smiling as Jiji clambered up her shoulder and clung to the sleeve of her dress, still watching him with wary eyes.

"Thank you for saving him," Kiki said, gratefully.

"That's alright. It was my disobedient mutt who caused the trouble in the first place." He shot the dog a withering look, making it cower and hide behind Tombo.

Tombo laughed, reaching down to pat its head comfortingly. "And here, I thought the dog was the boss of you," he said, in a half-taunting tone of voice that Kiki hadn't heard him use with anyone else before.

"Only because I'm too busy being your overlord," the strange boy retorted, making Tombo stick out his tongue in response.

Kiki looked from one of them to the other, puzzled. Seeing her confusion, Tombo came over to her; but he spoke to the older boy. "You've saved the cat, but neglected to explain to my friend who you are," he admonished. "This is Kiki, the one I told you about in my letter. Just wait until you see her fly - I reckon she's an even better pilot than you!"

"You mean the witch...? So you're the famous Kiki!" Something akin to recognition came into the older boy's face. "Sorry for the tardy introduction," he said, offering a hand for Kiki to shake. "I'm Tintin, Tombo's older brother."

* * *

 _Author's notes: well, that's it for chapter one. A few quick notices:_

 _I originally wrote Osono's baby as a boy; but on consulting screen-caps, I saw that she was shown knitting something pink, and so assumed it was for a girl. It's nice to think that a little girl will grow up with Aunty Kiki as her role model! I made a mobile for a uni assignment the same way as Tombo, out of embroidery hoops; funnily enough, I now remember that the theme for the mobile was_ Spirited Away.

 _Now might be a good time to mention that I have drawn some Tintin fan art, depicting him and Snowy helping an earthquake victim in Nepal - as a recipient of the Dalai Lama's humanitarian award, he was an obvious choice for the kind of hero they need over there - and I am thinking of selling it as a print to raise funds for the relief efforts._ _Anyone interested in purchasing a print, please send me a PM, I'll let you know when it has been set up. You can view the art by going to deviantart dot com and typing 'Tintin in Nepal' into the search box at the top of the page, it should be the first result to come up (my username is Wai-Jing over there)._

 _I hope everyone enjoyed this story thus far. Please write a review and let me know if you liked it! Also, for those who don't know, I have another Tintin story, 'The Red Feather', just starting out as well - if you liked this one, you might like that one too! ~ W.J._


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

Kiki reached out and took the hand that was offered.

As she moved forward, Jiji shrank back, clambering up her shoulder and crouching at the nape of her neck, where he was half-hidden by her hair. He still didn't trust anyone who could own such a ferocious beast, whether he had been saved by him or no.

Kiki, however, had no such reservations. Strangely, she wasn't half as nervous as she normally would be in front of a stranger; she just couldn't be around this boy, with his warm smile and polite manners, who chuckled in amusement as Jiji peered fearfully out at him from behind her ribbon. She couldn't help but somehow feel at ease in his presence. There was some air of proficiency about him, a quiet confidence, that she couldn't place. Perhaps it was the way he had put an end to the chaos so quickly and so simply; that alone had done much to impress her. Besides, she could forgive him for owning a dog, based on the way he had handled Jiji. If her friendships with Osono, Fukuo and Ursula had taught her anything, it was that the most trustworthy people tended to like cats.

His grip as he shook her hand was strong, which surprised her a little. She hadn't expected it to look at him, in his clean white shirt-collar, natty blue sweater and neatly-pressed plus-fours. He looked like some kind of junior professional - an efficient office clerk or dedicated desk-worker, perhaps. Yet she could feel a line of old calluses running across his palm, and his knuckles bore faint scars along their ridge. This in itself wasn't unusual - she knew that her own hands were a bit rough from where she gripped her broom, and Tombo's were in a similar state, courtesy of all the tools he used in his inventing. Even if this was the same as his brother, she rather doubted such things were hereditary.

"It's nice to meet you... erm, Tintin," she said, faltering a little. Though she outwardly kept her composure, she was hiding her surprise with an effort - she'd had no idea that Tombo even had an older brother!

Noticing her slight slip-up, the boys exchanged meaningful glances.

"I do believe she is laughing at your name, brother," Tombo said, with a gleeful smirk.

Tintin looked slightly affronted. He affected a long-suffering pose, though the exaggeration in the downturn of his lips and the overly-dignified tilt of his head told her that it was only mock. "You would maintain that my name is somehow funny, brother," he told Tombo, in what was meant to be an injured tone. "I really don't think it's that strange at all - is it?" He addressed this last question to Kiki, his expression hopeful.

Realizing that both boys were looking at her attentively, waiting on her answer, Kiki felt her face flush. "N-no, I mean... that wasn't... I never said that-"

"It's alright," Tintin said, reassuringly. "I promise I won't take offence if you really do think it's funny." Though he kept a straight face, he very obviously had his fingers crossed behind his back. Kiki cracked a smile.

"Well," she said, emboldened by his joking manner, "it's really not any stranger than 'Tombo'..."

She half-regretted it as soon as she said it. While it was now Tombo's turn to pout, Tintin doubled up in delighted laughter.

"Some friend," Tombo muttered, though he winked at Kiki to show her that he really didn't mean it.

"She should join one of the embassies in Brussels," Tintin declared, straightening gradually, recovering from his fit of mirth with an effort. "She's at least equally diplomatic with her insults!"

"I didn't mean it as an insult," Kiki said, colouring slightly again. "I just... they're uncommon names, but that certainly isn't a bad thing..."

"Quite right." Tintin regarded her thoughtfully. "In actual fact, our names both have rather interesting stories behind them. Did you tell her about that, Tombo?"

"I don't think so," Tombo said, turning to Kiki with a look of askance. "Did I?"

"No," Kiki replied, wondering all the while. "I don't think you even told me that you have a brother..."

"And here, I thought my name was universally famous," Tintin said, with a roll of his eyes.

"You wish," Tombo sniped at him, enjoying the chance for retaliation.

"Hardly. You see," Tintin began, explaining for Kiki's benefit, "our family has a rather strange tradition. All of us have always loved to roam the world, one way or another. Well, our parents are the exception, I guess - watchmakers don't tend to travel. I suppose they would have to reset too many clocks between every time zone!" All three of them laughed at that. Looking gratified, Tintin went on, settling into his tale. "Otherwise, all our relatives are avid wanderers. My brother here is a prime example - even though he's still so young, he can barely keep his feet on the ground!"

"I'm not so young," Tombo objected, as Tintin clapped him on the shoulder, in what he deemed to be a very condescending manner. "I'm only four years younger than you!"

"And look how many more flying machines you've built than me," Tintin pointed out, consolingly. "Anyway, it is the custom in our family that when a child is born, all our wayward relations will race back to visit, and the first to arrive will have the baby named after them. That's how it's always been, going back many generations, on our father's side - and we are no exceptions. When I was born, the first two relatives to arrive were our twin uncles, Augustin and Valentin."

"We call them the 'Tin-tins'," Tombo interposed, with a grin. "You can see where he gets it from!"

"Yes," Tintin agreed. "And, I might add, those '-tins' are in no particular order. Both uncles arrived at the _exact_ same time, even though one was coming from Burma, the other from Argentina. Father says they got stuck in the doorway, scrambling over each other in their desperate efforts to be first, and ended up tripping each other over the threshold."

They all laughed heartily at the mental image. Though Kiki had never met Augustin nor Valentin, she could well picture the two identical uncles sprawled out on the floor, each insisting that they had gotten there first.

"How did they decide which of them won?" she asked.

"They didn't," Tintin said, dryly. "They were so perfectly in-step, Father couldn't tell which of them was in front, so it was declared a tie - I needed a first- and second-name anyway, so it would have come from each of them regardless. But they never figured what order it should go in. Uncle Gus declared that the only fair way was to do it alphabetically; but Uncle Val insisted that since he was born a whole minute and twenty-eight seconds earlier, he should have preference as the eldest twin. They only stopped bickering when my parents shortened both names to 'Tintin' - and so I have been called ever since."

He grinned as he finished this pronouncement, watching Kiki as she giggled uncontrollably. She couldn't help it; it seemed so fantastical, even though he had told it with such conviction. She almost wondered whether he was pulling her leg. The fact that Tombo was also chuckling alongside her wasn't exactly helping to convince her.

"What about you?" she asked him, between gasps of laughter. "Who are you named after?"

"Our Uncle Tom, of course," he replied, puffing out his chest with pride. "who-"

"-cheated," Tintin interrupted, before he could go on.

"He did _not_ cheat," Tombo retorted, looking indignant. "Uncle Tom was a pilot," he explained, with a return of his usual broad smile. Kiki recognized the same gleam in his eye that always appeared there, behind his spectacles, whenever he spoke about anything related to aircraft. "He was between flights when he stopped by for a visit. He was playing a game of cards with friends at his local pub, and ended up winning a hotel that one of them had wagered."

"He's never cut a deck since," Tintin said, conspiratively, in an aside to Kiki. "That's very suspicious, if you ask me."

"He claimed he had used up all the luck he would ever had on that one game, so there was no point ever trying to win at anything else. He decided to turn the place into an inn where sailors and pilots could stay during their stop-overs, catering specially to frequent travellers. He's done a good job of it, too; the inn's always had a roaring trade, ever since he first took it over. Anyway, he had just won ownership of it at cards, and he was coming over to tell my mother the good news, when he found out, to his surprise, that I had just been born."

"Our parents hadn't even announced it yet," put in Tintin, "so he had an unfair head start - besides being only one street away to begin with."

"It was only luck and chance," Tombo pointed out, "not cheating. It can hardly be called an advantage, since it wasn't intentional. It was just meant to be, I guess."

"If you say so." Tintin's smile suddenly took on a slightly sinister curve. "Tell her where you got your middle name from."

Tombo's face fell. He gazed at Kiki dejectedly, heaving a great sigh. "From Cousin Aurora," he said, with disappointment heavy in each syllable.

Tintin was chuckling so hard by now, there were tears in the corners of his eyes. "She married into the family," he explained to Kiki, who was trying unsuccessfully to smother her own laughter behind her hand. "Her father and our grandfather were Arctic explorers together. He named her after the Northern Lights, of all things."

Both of them were almost in hysterics by now; Tintin could hardly speak, and Kiki was clutching her aching sides, helpless to stop. Even Tombo, try as he might to keep his self-pitying expression firmly in place, couldn't entirely resist the curling edges of a grin that hovered about the corners of his mouth.

"She insisted that I take her name as my middle one," he went on, since Tintin was nearly incapable of talking anymore, "as she legitimately was the next to arrive. Our parents tried to explain to her that boys in the family were usually only named after male relatives, but she wouldn't take no for an answer."

"That's where you get your stubborn streak from," Tintin chortled. Tombo reached up and tried to flatten his quiff in protest, but wasn't quite tall enough; Tintin successfully held him off, knocking his glasses askew in the process.

"They eventually compromised," Tombo said, giving up and straightening his glasses, flashing Kiki a look of resignation as he did so. "Aurora was way too feminine-" he darted his brother a warning look when he seemed about to interrupt, forcing him into smirk-filled silence "-and 'Aurelius' was too hard to turn into a nickname. So they gave me 'Borealis' instead, shortening the whole thing to 'Tombo'. The rest, as they say, is history."

He gave a low, comical bow as he finished; on cue, both Kiki and Tintin applauded, all three of them still laughing heartily.

"Well, to be precise, the rest is our future," Tintin said, mastering himself enough to speak again. "Our family believes that each namesake decides both what we will be called, and where we will travel to during our lives. I've already been to Central Asia and South America, just like my uncles. Which means this fellow here is set to tour the world as a pilot," he added, swatting playfully at Tombo's shoulder.

"Beats heading to the Alps like Cousin Aurora," Tombo said, with a shudder. "The Arctic was too cold for her - thankful goodness! - but she fancies herself an opera singer. Every so often, she has to go find a mountain to climb up, so she can yodel atop it. There must be whole ranges full of deafened goats. Trust me to get the eccentric one in the family..."

"Hey, I got two for the price of one!" Tintin objected. "You know how Uncle Gus and Uncle Val carry on..."

"At least they don't inflict their singing upon the rest of us," Tombo argued.

Kiki watched them bicker away comfortably, fascinated by it. Up until a few moments ago, she hadn't even known that Tombo had a brother. Now, watching them interact with each other, it seemed so completely natural to see them side by side, joking about and ribbing at each other. It was as if the older brother had always been around, and she had only momentarily forgotten his existence.

"What about you, Kiki?" Tintin asked, now he was assured that he had ruffled Tombo's hair as thoroughly as was possibly; the other, still unable to reach his crown, settled for rumpling his opponent's jumper as much as he could during his efforts to hold him off. "Is there some significance behind your name?"

"Me? Um, not really," Kiki said, caught unawares by the question. However, she pondered for a moment. "At least... I never really thought about it, but... my parents are called Okino and Kokiri..."

"They both have a 'ki' in their names!" Tintin exclaimed, sounding triumphant. "See, it's not so strange to be named after two relatives at once, is it?"

"I guess not," Kiki admitted, with a grin. She inwardly resolved to ask her parents about it in her next letter home.

"That's not the only thing you two have in common," Tombo piped up, turning to his brother excitedly. "You should have seen her at the dirigible site, Tintin! It was amazing, the way she swooped in and grabbed me, just as I was starting to fall! More than worthy of one of your articles!"

"It seems I owe the fact that I still have a brother to you," Tintin said, putting a hand on Kiki's shoulder in a friendly gesture of thanks. Jiji, slightly emboldened, went so far as to sniff at his fingertips; he flinched when Tintin reached out to pet him, but allowed it, looking mildly surprised when nothing terrible came of it. "I would have written about it," Tintin went on, "if I had been here. The most exciting thing ever to happen in my hometown, and I was away in Scotland at the time!"

"Then again, I suppose foiling a counterfeiting operation must have been almost as thrilling," Tombo admitted, a little grudgingly.

"Certainly it was," Tintin affirmed. "I still have the bruises to prove it!"

Seeing Kiki's mystified look, Tombo quickly explained. "My brother works for a newspaper in Brussels, _Le Petit Vingtième_. They send him on all kinds of assignments that he is too young and unqualified for."

"I've done alright so far," Tintin retorted, a little huffily. "There was my exposé on Russian socialism; the drug-smuggling racket I uncovered in the Middle East; the political conspiracy I uprooted in China; not to mention the trifling gang of counterfeiters I brought to justice in Killtoch..."

"Wait..." Kiki said, realization slowly dawning on her. "You are... you're _Le Vingt's_ foreign correspondent? All those stories from overseas... that was _you?!_ "

"You _have_ heard of me," Tintin said, mildly. He looked as if he met this kind of reaction all the time.

"I have," Kiki said, only just discovering the fact herself. "On the radio, I heard all about your adventures in the newsreels!"

She stared at him, amazed. So _this_ was the famous junior adventurer who reported for _Le Petit Vingtième_! To think that he was Tombo's _brother_!... and he had done all those brave, grown-up feats, yet he was still a mere boy, not much older than herself and Tombo!...

"You should read the papers as well," Tintin assured her, with a smile. "I can write about it a whole lot better than they gab about it, I assure you. Nothing beats a first-person account."

"Just don't include photographs of those bruises," Tombo muttered, at his elbow. "I guarantee you won't sell half as many copies if you do!"

"You mean I've been gathering them all for nothing?" Tintin joked, though he grimaced. "My work leads me into some fairly dangerous situations," he admitted to Kiki. "I thought I was the only one out of us brothers who had to put up with such things. But as thanks for sparing him the trouble, he instead goes out and finds a dirigible to fall from!"

"It certainly wasn't intentional," Tombo muttered, a little testily. He crouched down, so that his face was almost level with that of the dog who lay at Tintin's feet, enjoying a patch of sun that had managed to filter through the tree's branches. "Unlike _some_ people. I bet he drags you into all manner of trouble, doesn't he, Snowy?"

Kiki wasn't sure if Snowy understood or not. His only reply was to thump his tail from side to side, evidently enjoying the attention. Jiji, who had ventured out onto Kiki's shoulder, instantly scrambled back behind her hair again.

Tintin rubbed the back of his neck, suddenly looking a little sheepish. "I certainly don't mean to go running after trouble," he said. Snowy butted his head against his ankle, in what seemed to be a supportive gesture; he reached down and absently ruffled the dog's ears. "Trouble just has a way of following me around."

"I hope it didn't follow you here," Tombo retorted, "though I know a band of local boy-reporters who probably wish the opposite. Ever since your very first story came out, every news-cadet in town has been flocking to our house, pestering us for updates on your travels, hanging around in case a few stray stories wind up at our doorstep. I even saw a few comb their hair up to look like yours."

For the first time, Kiki saw Tintin actually seem discomforted; he patted his hair down self-consciously - it sprang back again as soon as he removed his hand - looking embarrassed. "I'm honoured," he said, with unmistakable modesty, "but that's taking things too far. I hardly deserve any kind of fan club."

"Well, you have one," Tombo told him, slapping him companionably on the back. "And they've insisted on throwing a party for you - at your own house! - to welcome you back, so you'd better thank them properly, even if you don't want it. _And_ even though they make us do all the work," he added, looking meaningfully at Kiki.

"Oh! Yes, that's right-" It was only then that Kiki remembered that she was actually making a delivery. She hastily snatched up the brown paper bag, which she had set at the base of the tree while she tried to save Jiji from becoming a dog's chew toy. "I brought these over for you. Sorry, they're a bit squashed, I got caught in a gust of wind on my way over. If your guests are arriving soon, I can get out of your way-"

She reached for her broom, which she had leant against the trunk of the tree. Before she could grasp it, Tombo had taken the bag of pastries in one hand, plucking at her sleeve with the other. "Not so fast!" he said, with a laugh. "It's not just his party, you know! Actually, I had planned it for you - to properly thank you for saving me. This idiot and his groupies just turned up and high-jacked the occasion." He jerked a thumb at Tintin, who stood by watching with his hands in his pockets, not uttering any protests, though he wrinkled his nose at the word 'groupies'.

"For _me_?" Kiki repeated, in amazement. This was the last thing she had been expecting!

"Of course! You saved my life, after all! A party is the very least I can give you in return." His face suddenly wore a pleading expression; his eyes looked very large behind his spectacles. "Please say you'll stay for the party! You will, won't you? A lot of people you already know will be there, and so many more want the chance to meet you."

"Myself included," Tintin declared, raising his hand. "I've heard all about how you fly from Tombo, but I must admit, I almost don't believe it. I want an exclusive, one-on-one interview, containing your own detailed explanation, in order to prove that the whole rescue wasn't just some mass-hallucination."

"Of course it wasn't a hallucination," Tombo protested, shooting him a disapproving stare, "and you're not supposed to be bringing your work to the party."

Tintin shrugged. "It's my party as well, isn't it? I'll merely be showing the local boys how it's done. Besides," he added, in a far less flippant tone of voice, "it will save me from having to be the sole centre of attention. I'm always a bit shy at parties - especially ones held in my honour."

He smiled kindly at the witch. He had, she realized, dealt with a lot of people in his time, though he was still so young. He had somehow managed to read her, discerning all the secret fears she had about the impending fete. Either that, or Tombo had already told him all about it. This was likely, given the way that both brothers now wore near-identical, imploring smiles upon their faces, waiting for her reply.

"You don't have any more deliveries this afternoon, do you?" Tombo asked, in a tone which suggested it wasn't really a question. He knew that she always saved his until last.

She almost wanted to say 'yes', so that she could easily excuse herself. A party was bad enough in itself - a party thrown for _her_ , with a famous boy-reporter attracting even more unknown guests, was downright terrifying!

Jiji nudged his nose against her ear, starting her out of her inner panic. He seemed to be just as impatient as the others, prompting her for an answer; though perhaps he simply wanted to get away from the dog as quickly as possible. Snowy, meanwhile, had his head cocked to one side. He sat up with one paw raised, looking just as pitiably pleading as his owner, though Tombo gave them both a run for their money. The wistful look on his face was enough to tug on even the most unfeeling of heartstrings. In front of those three faces, what else could she say?

"No, I don't," she said at last, "so I guess I'll be able to stay. Thank you very much for inviting me."

Tombo and Tintin both looked relieved; the elated smiles they gave her almost made it worth the prospect of having to talk to strangers. Even the dog wagged his tail in celebration, barking merrily. The only other reluctant one was Jiji, who clung to her shoulder as if to keep himself from drowning, pressed flat against her back until he seemed to blend into the black fabric of her dress.

"That little one is welcome too," Tintin said, noticing how the cat's fur still bristled on end, "if he's brave enough to stay. I solemnly promise that I won't let this fierce hound eat him." He shot the dog a warning look; Snowy's ears drooped in a show of deference, as if he were likewise pledging to be good.

"Jiji, did you call him?" Tintin asked, carefully patting the cat's head again.

"Yes," Kiki replied, giving the cat an encouraging look as he let Tintin stroke him; he seemed slightly more willing to tolerate it, now that it had been done several times without consequence. "I can't remember how we chose it," she added, since they had been talking about names so much earlier. "I guess he was meant to be like a sibling to me, and it was only one letter up from my own name." Jiji nestled against her cheek affectionately; she shifted him a little higher up on her arm, wordlessly promising to keep him out of harm's way. "What about Snowy?" she asked Tintin, smiling down at the little dog; despite the earlier kerfuffle, he wagged his tail endearingly up at her. "Is there a story behind his name?"

"No, I'm afraid not." Tintin patted the dog companionably on its side, making its thick white fur flatten and spring back beneath his hand. "It just seemed to suit him, really."

"You could have been a bit more imaginative," Tombo said snidely, taking the bag of pastries from Kiki with a slight inclination of his head, motioning her towards the house.

"I suppose you would have called him 'Blackie'," Tintin retorted, making Snowy snuff in disgust, unamused by the way they were making fun of his name.

Like Tombo, the journalist offered to carry something for Kiki; he picked up the broom, looking at it curiously. He appeared to be trying to figure it out, looking for something remarkable about it, though to all appearances it was just an ordinary broom. "Do you really fly on this thing?" he asked, incredulously.

"Does she ever!" Tombo replied on Kiki's behalf, eying the broom almost reverently. "That's the broom she saved me on, so don't you dare drop it!"

Hefting it now with something akin to consternation, Tintin crossed the yard with it. He quickly hoisted it a little higher as Snowy cavorted round his feet, wondering if it were perhaps some new model of stick that his master might throw for him.

"No, Snowy, leave it! I must say, flying or not, it's a very nice broom. Did you make it yourself?"

"N-no," Kiki replied, wondering how best to explain the broom's complicated history, "though I have made my own before. That broom is actually on loan-"

Walking in-step together - Kiki in the centre, the brothers on either side of her, Snowy darting back and forth in figure-eights around their ankles while Jiji looked on uneasily from above - they headed for the back door of the house, taking the conversation inside.

* * *

 _Author's note: readers who have also visited my other Tintin story, '_ The Red Feather _', will notice that Tintin's 'real' name is quite different in this one. I figured I'd have more than one shot at it - since Herge offered little explanation for it, there are endless possibilities! Tintin's family background is obviously quite different in both versions, too; Tintin and Tombo's parents will be present as background characters in this story, though I won't elaborate on their personalities too much - they are parents, and watch-makers, and that is all you need to know. I hope stating all this isn't some kind of oblique spoiler for '_ Feather' _s future plotlines - in which case, I refuse to admit that I have said anything incriminating!_

 _By the way, I think of this story as being set either is Belgium, or a country neighbouring Belgium - Syldavia, maybe? - either real or imagined. I already stated that Miyazaki's film was set in an unspecified European nation; in this story, Koriko is close enough to Brussels that Tintin can work there and still easily come back to visit, but far enough away for him to be slightly removed from the family, with his own separate life._

 _Speaking of that life: yes, I realize that the relatives I have described bear a resemblance to certain Herge characters. One can presume that his familiarity with Uncles Gus and Val is the reason why Tintin rarely raises an eyebrow at the Thompsons' antics; and Bianca Castafiore is probably a bit too much like his cousin Aurora for his liking. I can explaining it by purporting that when he moved out on his own, Tintin unconsciously surrounded himself with surrogate family-members who reminded him of his own relations - it's really not just my lack of originality! Perhaps he gets along with Captain Haddock so well because he doesn't have an analogue among his own relatives? Chang sort of fulfills the role of 'little brother' figure, albeit in a far more deferential way than Tombo does!_

 _Finally, for those that missed it, my Tintin art for charity is now available as a print on Etsy; just head to Etsy Dot Com and search for 'Tintin in Nepal' in order to purchase it, most of the proceeds go to the Red Cross earthquake appeal. I'd be thankful if people could please spread the word about it, so much more aid is still needed over there!_


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